


Her Van, Her Home

by inkyfingers95



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Post, Gen, Love the Van, Please..., Skyeward if you squint, Van and Others, Van and Skye, don't hate, mostly drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyfingers95/pseuds/inkyfingers95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She used to be owned by several people before this one found her. She remembered the two with funny fuzzy hair who first got her when she was fresh off of the line. Then there was Chuck who made her an important "Delivery Van". Paul and Jane pieced her back together. </p>
<p>But it was Skye who made her a home...</p>
<p>There are spoilers, be warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Van, Her Home

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS

Her Van, Her Home

 

-Inkyfingers95

 

 

She used to be owned by several people before this one found her. She remembered the two with funny fuzzy hair who first got her when she was fresh off of the line. Everyone was eager in the lot, waiting for their first driver. She had been bought by a stout man with an oily comb over that didn’t quite cover the bald spot on the top of his head. He told the “Sales Manager” how his younger son and a buddy had gotten into college, and he thought that this would be a good gift.

 

“Plus, it’ll save me the drip to and from the dorms,” he had said jokingly, nudging Sales Manager with an elbow.

 

Sales Manager tried to smile back, but it looked more painful than it usually did and she wondered if it wasn’t because his elbow had grease as well.

 

She paid it no mind though, she was just excited she was going to get a driver. He ended up being a tall, think boy how had funny fuzzy hair, and after a few boxes were loaded into the back and the goodbyes were said, she carried him away to his friend’s house where the process was repeated. The new guy looked just as young and had dark hair and thick glasses, but she wasn’t going to judge. They were all going to “college” and from what she could understand it was an important place to be and she was proud that her drivers were so important.

 

They didn’t go to college though, and she was a little disappointed. They went all over the place, bringing in strange girls and smoking stinky things that left her insides with a foul odor. She wouldn’t judge though, they were her drivers and she would get them to where ever they wanted to go as safely as she could (even if they has a heavy foot on the gas peddle).

 

They sold her when the wires to her radio started to give out. It was the part of her that they liked best, but the wet weather and the hot summers just didn’t agree with her and she was sorry for it and tried to hold on to them for as long as she could. She wasn’t too sad that they left her. She’ll admit that they took better care of her than she would have expected. They changed her oil every once and a while and they didn’t slam on the brakes too often. She was more offended that they would give up on her so easily.

 

Her next driver knew his way around an engine. He fixed her radio and even gave her a new set of tires! His fingers were always greasy, and he left finger prints on her hood, but she didn’t mind. He also changed her color. She used to be a lovely tan color, but he changed her to white. She wasn’t too sure about it. She thought it would show the road dust more easily, but she wasn’t going to complain.

 

He always took her to big buildings and filled her with boxes. All sorts of boxes, big boxes small boxes, boxes that held paintings and valuables that went to museums, presents and gifts that went to houses or apartments. He called her his delivery van and from all the work they did and the happy smiles they got, she figured they were doing an important job. Maybe “Delivery Service” was more important than this “College” her other drivers were supposed to go to. She let it be, allowing herself to feel grateful that she and Chuck were doing something that made people smile.

 

He called her his Ol’ Gal now. The boxes were becoming fewer and fewer until Chuck had to commute between cities in order to keep up with “Bills”. He sighed more often so she made sure to work to keep his favorite radio station’s signal when they had to work late nights.

 

It was one such night that they had an accident. It was her fault really, she could have been paying more attention to the road rather than the station, and they were going just a tad too fast around that curve, especially on a rainy night like this. Some sort of animal had ran out into the road and both she and Chuck startled, serving off the road and into a tree. She tried to keep him safe, tried to keep hold of the road, but it was too slick and they were going too fast. She tried to avoid the tree too, but it didn’t work. Chuck hit her window so hard it cracked, and they were left there alone, whatever they hit long gone.

 

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but it seemed like ages had passed before a Ford pulled up along side them, checking up on both her and her Chuck. The Ford assured her that they would bring help as they sped away. They arrived with another van and a much larger truck with flashing lights. They had to take off her door to get to Chuck, and she was worried because he wasn’t answering their questions and the way they sped off, sirens wailing, left her leaking oil (something she was sure she would feel horrible about later).

 

Another truck came to tow her away, tugging her from the tree that left her hood crunched in uncomfortably, to a large warehouse where they stuck a yellow lock around her tire, parking her towards the end of a really long row of cars. She was surrounded by several cars, trucks, and vans who were covered in dust. Some had been there for only a few days, but others had been there for years. None of them spoke to her. She was a disgrace to vehicles all over, letting her driver get into such an accident, allowing herself to leak oil all over the concrete, showing her engine off to the world underneath her crushed hood.

 

She sat there in shame, trying desperately to stop her oil from dripping while the damp air settled into her now exposed engine. Time inched by her. Hours turned to days, days to weeks, weeks into months. She just sat there, hoping (desperately) that Chuck would come back. Just to forgive her, she didn’t care if he took her away anymore; she deserved nothing less than to sit there in her own puddle of oil. But if she could just see him, make sure he was alright, then maybe the guilt that had settled into her like the rust on her bumper would ease just a little.

 

Maybe it was a selfish thought, but she missed her door, and her hood sat too uncomfortably on her engine and she her engine was so _exposed_. Her window washers would be going full blast if the tank hadn’t been cracked, she was sure.

 

She continued to stew there in her guilt and shame, feeling cold, rusty, oily, and exposed, parked there to cycle through the two emotions.

 

She almost didn’t recognize him when Chuck finally made it back to her. He was in a wheel chair, a woman pushing it from behind.

 

He gave her a sad look, patting her cold hood with his harm, grease-less hand.

 

“This was the van? Do you think you’ll have to sell it?”

 

It. She had been reduced to an it… If she had any oil left to drip, she’d have let it all out.

 

“I couldn’t replace her door even if I tried. Her engine looks like it would take some work, but I don’t have the time or the money. This ol’ girl was loyal, and she deserves to be looked after. I think I know a guy who can take her in and make sure she’ll go to a good home… Did they tell you if it hadn’t have been for her seatbelt sticking, I would have been dead?”

 

She warmed a little, looking down at her driver with an equally sad look. He gave her one last stroke, patting her hood in goodbye as the woman rolled him away. He came back a few days later, bringing a couple that carefully looked her over with warm fingers. They nodded to chuck and towed her away almost immediately after. Chuck made Jane and Paul promise to fix her up “real good” and give her to someone who would deserve her before they parted with one last heavy pat.

 

Their junk yard was both a haven and a graveyard. She was surrounded by half-cars and rusted cars beyond repair. However she was set in a row of other cars that they were fixing. There was a row of cars that was already fixed on the other side of the small building that doubled as their house.

 

She was nervous about being towed into that small garage, but she felt better once they removed her broken hood, relieving her of the pinched feeling she had on her engine for so long. They also were able to replace her door, which didn’t feel as great as her old one, but it was much better than having no door.

 

Jane was a nice woman who liked to hum along with songs that played on her radio while she worked. She gave her a new carpet for the back of her, re-holstering her seats with a nice cream colored. Paul replaced her engine piece by piece, even going so far as to upgrade her radio. He gave her a brand-new set of tires too, ones that had great traction, even on slippery roads, Paul had mentioned. He also fixed her window-wiper fluid tank and repaired the leak in her oil line. His fingers weren’t as delicate as Jane’s but they were firm in their actions and every action had a purpose.

 

Together, the both of them helped ease the guilt and shame she carried, however it was the girl and her friend that truly cheered her up.

 

She had stridden into the junkyard with a curious purpose weeks ago. She called for Jane, and before the girl could get another word out, Jane gave her a wrench and told her to tighten a few bolts. The girl, Skye, did so without complaint.

 

When Jane finished filling her up with some nice oil, she wiped her hands on a rag and looked to the young girl by her door.

 

“If you’re going to skip classes, the least you can do is help out,” she explained to her, when the brown haired girl gave her a questioning look.

 

She had come in every few days or so, and they never really talked, but every once and a while Skye would tell Jane about St. Anges, and her friend Miles, and how they were still looking for her parents. She would tell them about the latest family who had come to tell her she wouldn’t fit in.

 

Jane wasn’t one for words, but Skye only seemed to need someone to listen.

 

It was a few weeks later, Skye had become another accessory around her. She was young and had a fire to her that really made the engine in her hum pleasantly.

 

She had come in one day, an excited look on her face. Lately she had been talking about a new family, people she liked and had hoped would take her in.

 

Jane had halted in her work and looked up with cheer, when the young woman had called to her. “Skye, what’s up girl?”

 

The young brown haired girl smiled widely. “I got my license!” she replied hopefully.

 

Jane and the girl chatted for a while. The girl, Skye, was part of some sort of system, she gathered. She had known Jane for a while it seemed, and this family she liked. Skye had wanted to tell Jane because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to visit as often as she wanted. She hadn’t sounded excited about the new family, and Jane told her to buck up and be happy that she was getting out of St. Anges.

 

It didn’t sound like a happy place for Skye, but the girl scowled at the comment.

 

“They caught me and Miles at the library again; they just don’t want me to look for my family…” the girl muttered. “I get out in a few weeks anyway, so they won’t be able to stop me much longer.”

 

Jane gave her a sad look before patting her on the shoulder. “Hey why don’t you get in here and help me with this, this one needs a new coat of paint, and I can’t seem to settle on a color. What do you think?”

 

Skye gave her a disbelieving look, but allowed herself be distracted. “It’s a trivial thing, why ask me?”

 

“’Cause you’ve picked up a few things about engines. This girl’s been through a lot, and Paul and I’ve been having a tough time trying to find good people to sell her to. ‘Member Chuck? We promised him we’d give her to someone who deserved her.”

 

She and Skye looked over to her curiously.

 

“I figure, you’ve worked on her just as long as me and Paul, and if anyone really deserves her, it would be you.”

 

She and Skye stared at her on shock before Skye thrust herself at the surprised woman, tears streaming down her face.

 

Jane jumped, catching herself before she could fall. “Hey now, there’s no reason to cry, I thought to liked the van. If you’d rather have the Rabbit or maybe the little Bug that’s all you had to say I mean-”

 

“No,” Skye warbled, leaning back so she could look up at the tall woman. “I love it, thank-you…”

 

She felt warm. She liked Skye, and she wouldn’t want another driver, to be honest. She had made up her mind months ago that she would never drive another man. And Skye would sneak in some times, when Jane and Paul were asleep, and she’s tell her about her life, her quest to find her parents, her life at St. Anges, about Miles….

 

She couldn’t think of a person who deserved to be looked after more than Skye.

 

Eventually they settled on an ironic Sky Blue. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it at first, it would certainly hide the dirt better, but she thought it made her look bigger then she really was. But Skye picked it out for her, so she promised she wouldn’t complain.

 

Bit by bit, Skye moved her things into her. First it was a small box of collectables she placed on her dashboard, a small hula girl, a small antennae that was supposed to be a replica from some movie. She also stuck a few stickers on her dash, funny ones, cute ones, silly ones that made even Paul smile when the stoic man saw them.

 

Jane helped her install a mattress in the back, firmly telling Skye that she didn’t want any strange men back there. Skye assured her that she’d be the last person to bring a man into her van.

 

They added beads to block the small windows in the back and they added a small fuzzy rug that sat underneath the bench they installed behind the driver’s seat. Eventually Skye brought her laptop, one that she proudly told Jane she won in a bet at school, and placed it on the bench.

 

It was only when Skye officially turned eighteen that Paul and Jane filled out the paperwork and finally handed over the keys to Skye, telling her good luck.

 

Skye gave them a determined smile, and she they drove off of the lot. She took her to Mile’s apartment, where he came out to greet them.

 

He stunk like her first owners, but Stinky Miles, helped Skye hook up some equipment to the small bench and he made Skye really happy, so she decided she would tolerate him.

 

Stinky Miles apparently was really good at hacking computers. He helped Skye try to find things out about her parents. He was apart of a Rising Tide.

 

She wasn’t sure what it was, but Skye and Stinky Miles argued about it all the time. They both thought it was a great way to bring information to the people. The government shouldn’t be hiding things from people, telling others to hide what they were, or even using those people for their own nefarious plots. Stinky Miles thought the same thing, which is why he joined Rising Tide, but he told Skye she wasn’t good enough yet to join. Skye disagreed.  

 

Stinky Miles had been teaching her about computers for a while now, and Skye was proud to say that she was able to hack into a few top-level databases by herself now. Stinky Miles still thought of her as the little girl from the orphanage though, who won his laptop in a bet years ago.

 

When he found out she joined behind his back, he was furious. They had never seen him so angry or concerned. Skye had surprised the both of them by kissing him, and that had been the start of their love-hate relationship.

 

Personally, she thought it was cute, they would always tease each other about one thing or another, but when they really got into it, sparks would fly and tempers would roar.

 

Eventually, Stinky Miles seemed to loose direction, he began to try to convince Skye to put her mission on the back burner, telling her it didn’t really matter, that they shouldn’t worry about it. Skye was hurt.

 

“You don’t think it matters?” she asked, her movement stopping mid-code.

 

Stinky Miles shrugged. “No, not really. I mean it doesn’t change who you are, or who you were. Why should we care about them anymore?”

 

Skye turned slowly to face him. “Because it matters to _me_ , Miles.”

 

It descended quickly from there. Stinky Miles tried to take back what he said, but Skye wasn’t having any of it. He had meant what he said though, and it was what rubbed Skye the wrong way.

 

They kicked him out of her, leaving him on the sidewalk alone as they drove off in a fit of anger. Skye had worked herself to tears, so it was mostly her that was keeping them on the road. Eventually they made it back to the junkyard, where Jane and Paul took them in for the night, not asking many questions, but providing their silent support.

 

Skye was listless for a few days, before she finally came to a decision.

 

“I’m leaving.”

 

Paul and Jane gave her a little cash to hold her over until they could find where they where ever it was they were going.

 

They stopped by Stinky Miles’s apartment before they left. He tried one last time to convince her to stay, but Skye ignored him and continued to bring out boxes of her things.

 

He stood stoically on the sidewalk, anger and hurt swimming on his face as they drove away.

 

They spent weeks on the road, finally settling into California. They continued to wander, looking for “free wifi”, and settling down for days or weeks at a time when they found some. They went to the beach sometimes. Skye wouldn’t do any work, just lean up against her side while they stared out across the ocean while the sun sank below the water. Skye wouldn’t say why they went there, but she thinks its because Stinky Miles used to talk about it often.

 

She felt nervous sometimes about the places Skye parked her. It was harder to keep Skye safe than she originally thought. There was one night when Skye had been away and when she had come back, there had been a man following, another one of those bums, Skye hated. He had grabbed her and for once she was glad Skye had forgotten the emergency brake.

 

She backed into the man and pushed him far enough to give Skye the chance to run into her and sped off. Unfortunately, Skye never forgot about the parking brake after that. When people approached the van, she always tried to warn her somehow.

 

Sometimes it was by turning on the radio, or by blasting AC rather than the heater, or visa versa during the opposite seasons. Sometimes she’d turn on the headlights, not that Skye noticed if the sun was out. Other times she would try to rock herself, not a lot, but enough that Skye would look up and take notice of whatever angry store owner was approaching. Sometimes strange men would come knocking on her door, approaching her from a blind spot, startling both her and Skye. They could always fight them off though.

 

Rising Tide kept Skye busy though. Lately she had been making recordings for them, videos about the people they kept hidden away. Sometimes she’d do little jobs for her fellow “hacktivists”, cleaning up some of their messes, or consulting on how to break into one server or another. She’d get paid, sometimes, for doing it and what they got paid with, she would put into gas and food. Most of the time though, Skye spent her time looking into an agency called SHIELD. Apparently they had something to do with her parents.

 

Sometimes, she wishes she was an older model. Maybe she could have come across them sometime if she had been older, or maybe she’d have known a car that knew about them. Maybe she could have helped Skye somehow. But when she warned her about a bum or storeowner, Skye would giver her a loving stroke across her dash, and tell her she was so glad she had such a trustworthy van, and then it was alright that for now, it seemed enough to keep Skye safe from bums and angry store owners who didn’t want her on their wifi without paying.

 

Lately though, nothing could distract Skye, she had finally found one of her superheroes, and she knew that this would help her with her plan. Skye had babbled about it excitedly to her the entire day, her plan and her superhero, tapping away at her laptop while she did so. She just ran on and one about how the man had saved that woman from a burning building and about how she was so lucky to get it all on her cell phone, and how she was going to try to find him before anyone else could, that way she could help him.

 

She, herself, wasn’t sure if the man would want help, from what Skye had told her, but she left that to herself, and continued to try to drive Skye safely to where it was she was going, despite Skye’s heavy foot on the gas peddle. She parked her in the alley behind the restaurant, fiddling with her computer for a little while before pulling up the parking brake and striding away from her with purpose.

 

Skye came back about a half hour later, pouting and in a bit of a sulky mood. Eventually a determined gleam shone in her driver’s eyes and she settled back down in front of her laptop, talking into her laptop about the mission of Rising Tide, once more.

 

She wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t have been for the way Skye had bumped into her side mirror in her rush to the restaurant earlier. Two men in suits were walking up to her, keeping towards her blind spot.

 

Her oil tank stirred uneasily at the sight of the two and she cursed Skye for using the parking brake for once. She tried to rock a little, hoping Skye would notice, but she was too absorbed in what she was saying. And before she could try to turn on her radio, something she should have tried to do first, the two men pulled her door open, making Skye startle herself into silence.

 

The shorter man smiled at her, while the other one pulled Skye out of the van and pulled a bag over her head. She knew that this was what Skye had wanted in the first place, but her instincts were screaming at her to do something, rather than watch as they loaded Skye into the back of another van and drive her away.

 

It wasn’t but a few minutes later when more men arrived, a tow truck and another van with them. They rifled through her checking under her hood, despite her indignant protests. To her utter embarrassment they even checked her under carriage. She refused to talk to the van or the truck when they finally boxed anything electronic and loose and towed her away.

 

They too her to a nearby warehouse where there were several people milling about, a woman handed over the box filled with Skye’s laptop and other gadgets. She rolled over someone’s toes before the guy behind her wheel pulled on her emergency brake. The guy didn’t drop the box, but he need help limping away to a doctor’s office.

 

She was smug that she had injured one of them, but she was soon scowling at them while they put a lock around her tire, hating the fact that they were riffling through Skye’s computer things. They were getting increasingly and increasingly frustrated, though, so she winded up feeling smug again. Skye was smart. Probably smarter and more important than that “College” thing she had heard about so long ago.

 

When they tried to get back into her, she locked her doors. When they tried to move her, she leaked oil over their floor. She took her victories where she could, and she was sure Skye would be proud of her when she heard about all the trouble she gave them.

 

It must have been only a few hours later when someone got a call. She hadn’t noticed at first, she had stopped paying attention after the third check-in telling them of their failure to get into Skye’s computers.

 

The guy had snapped his cell phone shut.

 

“Wrap it up people, we need the van back the way it was in twenty minutes.”

 

She had never seen so many people move so fast. Before she could flash her headlights, all of Skye’s things were back where they had been, and she was right back to where she was parked behind the restaurant.

 

It wasn’t but a few minutes later when Another van pulled up, blocking the entrance of the alley. Skye leaped out of the black van and darted up to her, cooing at her and running her warm soft hands over her, checking for any dents or scratches before turning to the other woman who had come with her.

 

“My stuff is in there still?”

 

The other woman nodded, following Skye as she stepped into the back, but she stood just outside of the door, taking up a guard position while Skye started to talk to another person, walking him through all that she was doing.

 

Skye was sending him some files, and although the young man sounded nice, she didn’t appreciate that he was trying to hit on Skye, or whatever it was he was trying to tell her. He said he wanted to show her some of his equipment, and even though she knew she couldn’t compare drivers to drivers, the only time Stinky Miles used that line was when he wanted Skye to come into his apartment

 

“Never mind, shutting up now…”

 

She was glad that he did.

 

“All done?” the other woman asked, turning around to look at Skye.

 

“Yup.”

 

“Good let’s-”

 

A man had dropped from the sky and knocked her out. Both she and Skye were surprised when the deranged man started to ramble, pulling his Little Ace out from behind him. She would have leaked oil if she hadn’t leaked enough of it today.

 

He made Skye get behind the wheel once more, directing them to the local train station. Planes and subways were too conspicuous apparently. He made her park just out front, making her work on erasing their identities, trying to rush her.

 

Even though she could tell Skye was just as terrified as she was, she kept her calm, she spoke evenly and smoothly, not giving any indication to her terror. She could hear Skye tapping on her laptop calmly, and knew that the girl had something up her sleeve.

 

She felt her tires ease when she saw Smiley and Agent Man from earlier, they barely knocked on her door, before Superhero Mike kicked her door off. It stung a little, and she mourned the loss of her door once again for a second, before she saw Superhero Mike drag Little Ace and Skye into the station terminal once more.

 

She couldn’t do anything but watch as her tires filled back up with tension as he dragged her away.

 

But the shot rang out, and he fell down, and she was so relieved Skye was okay she could have let out the airs in her tires. Skye was eventually able to make her way over to her once again. Her face scrunched up in despair when she noticed the gaping hole her missing door had left. She felt both embarrassed and pleased at the concern Skye expressed over her door.

 

“Are you guys going to pay for that? Because I think you should. I paid good money for her tires, but I don’t think I could pay for her door to be replaced. Plus I don’t think my insurance covers ‘Superhero-Related Accidents’, although it probably should now…”

 

Smiley reassured her that it would be looked after, taking her aside to have a moment to talk. She let them have their privacy, even though she was a little curious. Skye gave her a last loving pat, before she left with Smiley and Little Ace.

 

Agent Man took the keys from a wary looking Skye. He gave her a sarcastic look which made her scowl at him. After setting her door into the back he stepped behind her wheel imperiously.

 

She wouldn’t let the engine turn when Agent Man stepped behind her wheel, and Skye smirked at his confused look.

 

“Let me show you how it’s done, _Agent_ Ward,” Skye snarked, pulling him out from behind the wheel. “She needs a gentle touch, not that Lone Wolf crap you’re trying to give her. You have to stroke her,” Skye demonstrated, her warm fingers running over her dash lovingly, “and you have to tell her how much you appreciate her and how much you adore her and how amazing she is,” Skye demonstrated once again and if she could, she would have blushed at the words she whispered, “and _then_ you have to turn her key.”

 

Her engine purred happily, as Skye gave “Agent Ward” a triumphant smirk. It suddenly turned serious and concerned once more as he stepped back behind the wheel. “Be gentle with her, okay? From here straight to the hanger. Coulson said he’d drop me off there,” Skye said firmly.

 

“I heard you,” Agent Ward replied, and he carefully pulled her out of the small plaza. He was gentle with her, she had to admit, and his hands were just as warm as Chuck’s or Skye’s. He hummed a little under his breath when he made turns, and he forgot to signal once or twice, but Skye did as well, so she promised him she wouldn’t tell her.

 

He parked her next to an impressive airplane. They called it The Bus, but she didn’t understand why. It didn’t look anything like a bus, but drivers were drivers, she wouldn’t tell them what they could or could not name something. She heard a few of the passing agents hand over a device to an attendant, giving her a wary look. She was proud to recognize him as the one whose foot she ran over.

 

“Be careful of that thing. We think it might be robotic. This will deactivate whatever’s running it until the girl comes back for it later. Don’t forget to activate it after she’d given you the keys.”

 

She stared at him ominously, and she was sure he could feel it because he gave her one last scared look before limping away.

 

Skye met back up with her not twenty minutes later. She packed a few bags, and put her laptop gadgets into a box. “I’m going with them,” she said simply, as explanation.

 

She would have nodded sadly if she could. She understood. They were her only chance at finding her parents, and she knew Skye would take it. She wouldn’t admit it later, but some of her windshield wiper fluid leaked when Skye finally stepped back, reluctantly handing over her keys to a fellow attendant.

 

They gave each other a passing look, both wishing the other luck as the attendant stepped up to her.

 

“Hey,” Skye said suddenly, stopping the attendant for a moment. “No joy-rides, okay?... That’s my house.”

 

The remark made their departure all the more bitter sweet. She hoped Skye would find what she was looking for. She hoped that Skye would find a place among the people she could see on The Bus. She hoped most of all that Skye would be safe without her.

 

They stared at each other even as the attendant stuck that device on her, and activated it, making her world go dark until a time when Skye would come back for her. 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah... I read this story where Skye had a trial and I started thinking about what would happen to her van and then I had a lot of sugar and here is what happened.
> 
> P.S.
> 
> Snark is totally a word, no matter what Word says.


End file.
